Have You Met the Gentleman?

HAVE YOU MET THE GENTLEMAN?

The two boys had received permission to roam in the meadows. These were bordered on the north by a beautiful mountain stream. It wound about in many a curve, and was fringed by the wild wil-

low. From the canyon east, the fresh breezes of the morning sang pretty melodies. It was a delight to listen and to linger.

"How very pleasant it would be to have nothing to do but to rest in these pretty meadows!" said Hugo. "0, it would soon get tiresome," said David, with the practical impatience he manifests for the day dreams of his brother. "But I could not tire of this. It's just grand!" said the first speaker, who was much younger than his brother. "I don't like work." "That's wrong; we must work, and there is no such thing as rest in the sense you speak of it," replied David. "Did you but know it, rest itself may become work of the heaviest kind, and work itself may be made rest of the sweetest sort. Did you ever hear the story of Daffydowndilly?" "No; what is it?" "0, it's about a school-master, and a little boy, about your age, who had notions of work something like yours. He made hard work of his fear of work, like you do." "Who was the school-master?" "His name was Mr. Toil. But I have the story in this little book. Let's sit down here under the shade of this willow and read it." "Who wrote the story?" "Why, Nathaniel Hawthorne, the great American novelist, who was born in 1804, and who died in 1864. Any more questions?"

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"Whew! look at the ants, in that bunch of grass. Here's a better place." Then the two brothers sat side by side and read and laughed over

LITTLE DAFFYDOWNDILLY.

Daffydowndilly was so called, because in his nature he resembled a flower, and loved to do only what was beautiful and agreeable, and took no delight in labor of any kind. But while Daffydowndilly was yet a little boy, his mother sent him away from his pleasant home, and put him under the care of a very strict school-master, who went by the name of Mr. Toil. Those who knew him best affirmed that this Mr. Toil was a very worthy charactsr; and that he had done more good, both to children and grown people, than anybody else in the world. Certainly he had lived long enough to do a great deal of good; for, if all stories be true, he had dwelt upon earth ever since Adam was driven from the garden of Eden. Nevertheless, Mr. Toil had a severe and ugly countenance* especially for such little boys or big men -as were inclined to be idle; his voice too was harsh; and all his ways and customs seemed

very disagreeable to our friend Daffydowndilly. The whole day long this terrible old school-master sat at his desk overlooking the scholars, or stalked about the schoolroom with a certain awful birch rod in his hand. Now came a rap over the shoulders of a boy whom Mr. Toil had caught at play; now he punished a whole class who were behind with their lessons; and, in short, unless a lad chose to attend quietly and constantly to bis book, had no chance of enjoying a quiet moment in the school-room of Mr. Toil. "This will never do for me," thought Daffydowndilly. Now, the whole of Daffydowndilly's life had hitherto been passed with his dear mother, who bad a much sweeter face than old Mr. Toil, and who had always been very indulgent to her little boy. No wonder, therefore, that poor Daffydowndilly found it a woeful change to be sent away from the good lady's side, and put under the care of this ugly-visagf»d school-master, v/ho never gave him any apples or cakes, and seemed to think little boys were created only to get lessons.

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"I can't bear it any longer," said Daffydowndilly to himself, when he had been at school about a week. "I'll run away, and try to find my dear mother; and, at any rate, I shall never find anybody half so disagreeable as this old Mr. Toil."

So, the very next morning, off started poor Daffydowndilly, and began his rambles about the world, with only some bread and cheese for his breakfast and very little pocket money to pay his expenses. But he had gone only a short distance when he overtook a man of grave and sedate appearance, who was trudging at a moderate pace along the road. "Good morning, my fine lad," said the stranger; and his voice seemed hard and severe, but yet had a sort of kindness in it; "whence do you come so early, and whither are you going?" Little Daffydowndilly was a boy of very ingenuous disposition, and had never been known to tell a lie in all his life. Nor did he tell one now. He hesitated a moment or two, but finally confessed that he had run away from school, on account of his great dislike to Mr. Toil, and that he had resolved to find some place in the world where he should never see or hear of the old school-master again. "Oh, very well, my little friend," answered the stranger. "Then we will go together; for I likewise have had a good deal to do with Mr. Toil, and should be glad tofind some place where he was never heard of." Our friend Daffydowndilly would have been better pleased with a companion of his own age, with whom he might have gathered flowers along the roadside, or have chased butterflies, or have done many other things to make the journey pleasant. But he had wisdom enough to understand that he should get along through the world much easier by having a man of experience to show him the way. So he accepted the stranger's proposal, and they walked on very sociably together. They had not gone far when the road passed by a field where some hay-makers were at work mowing down the tall grass, and spreading it out in the sun to dry. Daffydowndilly was delighted with the sweet smell of the new-mown grass, and thought how much pleasanter it must be to make hay in the sunshine, under the blue sky, and with the birds singing sweetly in the neighboring

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trees and bushes, than to be shut up in a dismal school-room, learning lessons all day long, and continually scolded by old Mr. Toil. But in the midst of these thoughts, while he was stopping to peep over the stone wall, he started back and caught hold of his companion's hand. "Quick, quick!" cried he. "Let us run away, or he will catch us!" "Who will catch us?" asked the stranger. "Mr. Toil, the old school-master!" answered Daffydowndilly. "Don't you see him amongst the hay-makers?" And Daffydowndilly pointed to an elderly man, who seemed to be the owner of the field, and the employer of the men at work there. He had stripped off his coat and waist- coat, and was busily at work in his shirt sleeves. The drops of sweat stood upon his brow; but he gave himself not a moment's rest, and kept crying

out to the hay-makers to make hay while the sun shone. Now, strange to say, the figure and features of this old farmer were precisely the same as those of old Mr. Toil, who at that very moment must have been just entering his school room. "Don't be afraid," said the stranger. "This is not Mr. Toil the school-master, but a brother of his, who was bred a farmer; and people say he is the most disagreeable man of the two. However, he won't trouble you, unless you become a laborer on the farm." Little Daffydowndilly believed what his companion said, but was very glad, nevertheless, when they were out of sight of the old farmer, who bore such a singular resemblance to Mr. Toil. The two travelers had gone but little further when they came to a spot where some carpenters were erecting a house. Daffydowndilly begged his companion to stop a moment; for it was a pretty sight to see how neatly the carpenters did their work, with their broad-axes and saws, and planes and hammers, shaping out the doors and putting in the window sashes, and nailing on the clap boards; and he could not help thinking that he should like to take a broad-ax, a saw, a plane, and a hammer, and build a little house for himself. And then, when he should have a house of his own, old Mr. Toil would never dare to molest him. But just while he was delighting himself with this idea, little

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Daffydowndilly beheld something that made him catch hold of his companion's hand all in a fright, "Make haste! Quick, quick!" cried he. "There he is again." "Who?" asked the stranger, very quietly. "Old Mr. Toil," said Daffydowndilly, trembling. "There; he that is overseeing the carpenters. 'Tis my old school-master, as sure as I'm alive!" The stranger cast his eyes where Daffydowndilly pointed his finger, and he saw an elderly man, with carpenter's rule and compasses in his hand. This person went to and fro about the unfinished house, measuring pieces of timber, and marking out the work that was to be done, and continually exhorting the other carpenters to be diligent. And wherever he turned his hard and wrinkled visage, the men seemed to feel they had a task- master over them, and sawed, and hammered, and planed as if for dear life.

"Oh, no! this is not Mr. Toil the school-master," said the stranger. "It is another brother of his, who follows the trade of carpenter." "I am very glad to hear it," quoth Daffydowndilly: "but, if you please, sir, I should like to get out of his way as soon as possible."

Then they went on a little further, and soon heard the sound of a drum and fife. Daffydowndilly pricked up his ears at this, and besought his companion to hurry forward that they might not miss seeing the soldiers. Accordingly, they made what haste they could, and soon met a company of soldiers, gaily dressed, with beautiful feathers in their caps, and bright muskets on their shoulders. In front marched two drummers and two fifers, beating on their drums and playing on their fifes with might and main, and making such lively music that little Daffydowndilly would gladly have followed them to the end of the world. And if he was only a soldier, then, he said so himself, old Mr. Toil would never venture to look him in the face. "Quick step! Forward, march!" shouted a gruff voice. Little daffydowndilly started in great dismay; for this voice which had spoken to the soldiers sounded precisely the same as that which he had heard every day in Mr. Toil's schoolroom, out of Mr.

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Toil's own mouth. And turning his eyes to the captain of the company, what should he see but the very image of old Mr. Toil himself, with a smart cap and feather on his head, a pair of gold epaulettes on his shoulders, a laced coat on his back, a purple sash around his waist, and a long sword, instead of a birch rod, in his hand. And although he held his head so high, and strutted like a turkey cock, still he looked quite as ugly and disagreeable as when he was hearing lessons in the schoolroom. "This is certainly old Mr. Toil," said Daffydowndilly, in a trembling voice. "Let us run away, for fear he should make us enlist in his company." "You are mistaken again, my little friend," replied the stranger, very composedly. "This is not Mr. Toil the schoolmaster, but a brother of his, who has served in the army all his life. People say he is a terribly severe fellow; but you and I need not be afraid of him." "Well, well," said little Daffydowndilly, "but if you please, sir, I don't want to see the soldiers any more." So the child and the stranger resumed their journey; and, byand-by, they came to a house by the roadside where a number of people were making merry. Young men and rosy-cheeked girls, with smiles on their faces, were dancing to the sound of a fiddle. It was the pleasantest sight that Daffydowndilly had yet met with and it comforted him for all his disappointments. "Oh, let us stop here," cried he to his companion; "for Mr. Toil will never dare to show his face where there is a fiddler, and where people are dancing and making merry. We shall be quite safe here." But these last words died away upon Daffydowndilly's tongue; for happening to cast his eyes upon the fiddler, whom should he behold again but the likeness of Mr. Toil, holding a fiddle bow instead of a birch rod, and flourishing it with as much ease and dexterity as if he had been a fiddler all his life! He had somewhat the air of a Frenchman, but still looked exactly like the old school-master; and Daffydowndilly even fancied that he nodded and winked at him, and made signs for him to join in the dance. "Oh, dear me!" whispered he, turning pale. "It seems as if

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there was nobody but Mr. Toil in the world; who could have thought of his playing on a fiddle!" "This is not your old school-master," observed the stranger, "but another brother of his, who was bred in France, where he learned the profession of a fiddler. He is ashamed of his family, and generally calls himself Monsieur le Plaisir; but his real name is Toil, and those who have known him best think him even more disagreeable than his brothers." "Pray let us go on a little further," said Daffydowndilly. "I don't like the looks of this fiddler at all." Well, thus the stranger and little Daffydowndilly went wandering along the highway, and in shady lanes, and through pleasant villages; and whithersoever they went, behold! there was the image of old Mr. Toil. He stood like a scarecrow in the corn-fields. If

they entered a house he sat in the parlor; if they peeped into the kitchen he was there! He made himself at home in every cottage, and stole, under one disguise or another, into the most splendid mansions. Everywhere there was sure to be somebody wearing the likeness of Mr. Toil, and who, as the stranger affirmed, was one of the school-master's innumerable brothers. Little Daffydowndilly was almost tired to death, when he perceived some people reclining lazily in a shady place by the side of the road. The poor child entreated his companion that they might sit down there, and take some repose. "Old Mr. Toil will never come here," said he; "for he hates to see people taking their ease." But even while he spoke, Daffydowndilly's eyes fell upon a person who seemed the laziest, and heaviest, and most torpid, of all those lazy, heavy, and torpid people, who had lain down to sleep in the shade. Who should it be again but the very image of Mr. Toil!" "There is a large family of these Toils," remarked the stranger. "This is another of the old school-master's brothers, who was bred in Italy, where he acquired very idle habits, and goes by the name of Signer Far Niente. He pretends to lead an easy life, but is really the most miserable fellow in the family." "0, take me back —take me back!" cried poor little Daffy-